Chapter 6: Tyler

The primary suspect slams his apartment door in my face, and as I'm about to kick it open, I hear the chain lock slide free. Then the door opens part way.

Terry Kramer stands half hidden behind the door, looking haggard and hungover. He's dressed in a pair of raggedy blue jean shorts and a badly stained Chicago Cubs T-shirt.

"Yeah, she's here," he says, his voice rough. He steps back and motions me inside. "I've been asking her to leave all morning. I even offered to pay for a taxi or even drive her home myself, but she refuses to get out of bed. Maybe you can talk some sense into her."

I feel an immediate rush of relief, simply knowing Dina's alive. In my career as a homicide detective, I saw more dead bodies than I can count. I admit, I was expecting the worst. "Take me to her, please."

Terry heads down the hallway and pauses in front of an open bedroom door. "She's in here."

I step inside a room that reeks of pot and sex. It's so dark in here, I can barely make out the sight of a body huddled beneath the bedding. "Dina?"

I hear a faint rustle of bedding, followed by an anguished moan.

My heart rate kicks up a notch as I wonder if perhaps she's not all right after all. "Dina, I'm turning on the light." I flip the light switch, which turns on a lamp on a bedside table.

The blonde lying in bed screeches as she pulls the covers over her head.

Now that the light is on, I can see the room clearly. The carpeted floor is littered with empty food wrappers, crushed beer cans, and empty liquor bottles. The furniture is old, scarred, and mismatched. Now I can easily make out the lump hiding beneath a tan bedspread.

"Dina?" I walk over to the bed. "Are you okay? My name's Tyler Jamison. Kimi asked me to—"

"I know who you are," Dina mutters from beneath the covers. "Kimi talks about you all the time." She lowers the blanket to her neck and peers up at me. Her brown eyes are bloodshot, and her shoulder-length hair is a tangled mess.

"You scared the daylights out of your roommate when you didn't come home last night," I say. "Can you tell me what happened?" I'm still not entirely sure that Terry Kramer has nothing to answer for.

Dina glances past me at Terry, then at the disheveled bedroom. "Oh, God." She moans as she covers her eyes. "This place is a pigsty."

Terry is loitering in the doorway, and I have to wonder if Dina finds his presence intimidating. I still don't know exactly what transpired here. Terry's certainly not off the hook. If he took advantage of this girl—I glance back at him. "Do you mind waiting in the living room? I'd like to speak to Dina alone." And before giving Terry a chance to answer me, I push him out into the hallway and close the door in his face. "Dina, did Terry hurt you?"

She grimaces as she shakes her head. "No."

"Are you sure? Be honest with me. If he hurt you, or coerced you, or took advantage of you in any way, you need to tell me. I'll make sure he's held accountable."

She sighs. "He didn't do anything wrong. I'm fine. Just hungover. And I have a headache."

"How much did you drink last night?"

She scoffs. "Too much, apparently. So much that I went home with Terry and let him—we—well, I'm sure you can guess." She glances down at the women's clothing on the floor—an orange dress, underwear, a bra—and winces.

"I assume you had sex with Terry last night."

She nods. "Please don't remind me."

"Was it consensual?"

Dina scrunches her eyes shut. "Yes."

"And he didn't pressure you in any way?"

"He didn't. I was wasted last night, and I only have myself to blame."

"Do you know Terry? I mean, from before last night?"

"Yes, we went to high school together. He comes into the restaurant where I work a lot. He's been asking me out for a long time, and I always say no."

"But you didn't say no last night?"

"No. I was stupid drunk, and I did a stupid thing. I called for a rideshare last night, but then Terry pulled up to the curb when he spotted me standing outside the club. He offered me a ride, and stupid me, I thought a free ride was better than paying for one. So, I got in his car and canceled my rideshare. Terry asked me if I wanted to come back to his place to smoke some weed, and like an idiot, I said yes. We smoked, and I drank more, and the next thing I knew, we were both naked in this bed, where I did more stupid things." She covers her face again and makes an agonized sound.

I nod toward the bedroom door. "I'll step out so you can get dressed. Then I'm taking you home."

Looking miserable, she nods.

I find Terry sitting on a well-worn sofa in the living room. He's not looking so good himself.

"Are you calling the police?" he asks.

"Is there a reason why I should? Dina told me the sex was consensual."

He shrugs. "It was. But the only reason she agreed to come home with me last night was because she was drunk. Otherwise, she wouldn't have come. She doesn't even like me."

"And yet, knowing that, you still brought her here."

He stares down at the floor. "Yeah."

"Well, bad judgment isn't a crime, drunk or not. Dina confirmed it was consensual, so I don't see this as a criminal issue."

Terry blows out a relieved breath.

While I'm waiting for Dina to appear, I text Kimi and Ian, both, to let them know I found Dina and that she's okay.

Then I send a second text to Kimi:

I'm taking Dina home. If you want to take off the rest of the day, it's fine. I think your roommate might need some support.

Kimi texts me back:

You don't mind?

I reply:

Of course not. Ask Jerry to answer the phones.

Then I text Ian to tell him I'll be home after I drop Dina off at her apartment.

Dina finally comes out of the bedroom, looking forlorn and sheepish. Her orange dress is badly wrinkled. This is definitely going to be a walk of shame for her.

I open the apartment door. "Ready?"

She nods. "Yes." She doesn't bother to look at Terry as she heads for the door.

Terry watches her walk out of his apartment. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn't. She doesn't even acknowledge his presence.

When we reach the curb, I open the front passenger door for Dina, and she slides in and buckles her seatbelt. She pulls down the visor and stares at her reflection. Nervously, she fusses with her hair, trying to tame the tangles.

I get in and start the engine, wondering what to say to her. I don't think there's much I can say. Obviously, she made some bad decisions last night. But something does occur to me. "Did you use protection last night?"

Dina whips her head in my direction. "Protection?"

Oh, come on. Surely this girl wasn't born yesterday. "Protection—condoms, birth control? Are you on the pill?"

She pales at the question. "No."

"Did you use condoms last night?"

Another shake of her head. "I don't know." Her brow furrows as she tries to recall. "I don't remember. Probably not. I mean, it happened so fast. I don't see how he had time to get one on. Certainly not the first time. And after that, no. He didn't use condoms."

"You should always use protection, not only to prevent pregnancy, but to avoid contracting STDs as well."

Dina turns to look out her side window, putting an end to my lecture on safe sex. She may be a bit disconcerted, but for me, this is a good outcome. Hell, it's a great outcome. It could have been so much worse. I think back to all the cases I investigated as a homicide detective, all the times when young women went missing and all we found were their bodies.

When I pull up in front of Dina's apartment, Kimi is already there, standing in front of the building. She runs out to the car and opens Dina's door. "Thank God! I was so worried."

"I'm sorry," Dina murmurs to her roommate. "I didn't mean to worry you. I passed out before I could think to call you. And then, this morning, I couldn't face it."

Kimi leans into the car, gazing past her friend to me, her eyes brimming with tears. "I can't thank you enough, Mr. J."

"No need to thank me, Kimi. I'm just glad she's okay."

After Dina gets out of the car, Kimi closes the door and walks her friend up the sidewalk to their building. She waves at me before they step inside.

I text Ian.

How's it going, babe?

He texts me back a few minutes later.

Good. We're napping.

That makes me smile. I love how easily Ian has taken to parenting. That really shouldn't surprise me because he has such a big heart, and he's such a softie for love and affection.

I send one last text.

I'm on my way home. Do you need me to pick up anything?

He texts me back immediately.

Nope. We just need you.

When I arrive home half an hour later, the house is quiet. The downstairs is empty. I head upstairs to find the babies sleeping in their bassinettes, and Ian asleep in our bed. The poor guy must be exhausted as he had to do everything by himself today. I make a pit stop in our bathroom so I can freshen up. Then I strip down to my T-shirt and underwear and climb into bed with him.

Ian turns to me and slips his arm around my waist. "Welcome home," he murmurs sleepily. "We missed you today."

"I missed you, too." I press my lips to his forehead. "After two weeks of being at home, it felt weird getting back out there. But I'm glad I did."

"Your mom stopped by. She brought us a casserole, so guess what we're having for lunch for the next two days, if it lasts that long."

I chuckle. "That sounds perfect. I'm glad she got to see the babies."

Ian yawns. "I'm glad Kimi's roommate is all right." He's clearly still half-asleep, and a moment later, he's in la-la land.

I lie there wide awake and reminisce about how much my life has changed since I met Ian—how I went from a lonely, solitary closeted man to an openly gay man now married with kids. I owe everything to Ian—he pulled me out of my shell, albeit kicking and screaming, and forced me to look myself in the mirror and acknowledge who I am and what I need.

And what I need is this man.

I doze off myself for a little while, and when I wake up, I can see the sun is low on the horizon, meaning it's getting close to dinner time. My stomach grumbles loudly.

I roll toward Ian and kiss his forehead a few times, until he begins to stir. If we don't get up now, we won't be sleepy when it's bedtime."

"What time is it?" he asks as he squints at the clock.

"Almost five."

"Oh, crap! Dinner! Are you hungry?" He lifts his head to peer at me. "Of course, you're hungry. You skipped breakfast this morning, and knowing you, you haven't eaten a thing all day."

"Have we got something we can grill?" I'm not the best cook, but I'm good with a grill and a spatula. Making dinner for Ian is the least I can do when he's been home on baby duty all day.

"We have some fresh ground beef," he says. "How about burgers?"

I give Ian a kiss and then swing my feet to the floor. "You relax. I'll get the grill started."

* * *

An hour later, we're up on the roof in the greenhouse, all four of us. Ian is sitting on a lounger, holding Lizzie. Will is lying in the center of our big bed up here, cooing as he looks around the greenhouse at all the flowering plants and potted trees.

The burgers are done, so I make up plates for the both of us, burgers with cheese and condiments on buns, potato chips, and cold bottles of Coke. I place Ian's plate and drink on the little table beside him. "Here," I say as I take Lizzie from him. "You eat."

"You're the one who needs to eat," he says. "You've had nothing all day."

I sit on the other lounger and hold Lizzie tucked into one arm while I reach for my burger with my free hand. "I can multitask."

Ian grins. "Now you're showing off." He watches me as I gently bounce Lizzie, while taking a bite of my burger. "Stop being so sexy," he says, looking at me like I hung the moon for him.

It's difficult to chew and smile at the same time. This guy! I love how he makes me feel. I'm just trying to do my part, and he acts like I'm doing him a huge favor when I'm simply trying to be a good husband and father.

Lizzie lodges a complaint, so I put my burger down so I can adjust my hold. I smile down into her perfect little round face, with her tiny nose and little rosebud lips, which are currently quivering as if she's ramping up to cry. "Hey, little lady, what's wrong?" I bounce her a little more, but she's still not happy. I lift my gaze to Ian's. "What's wrong? Is she hungry?"

Ian shakes his head. "I doubt it. They ate not that long ago. Check her diaper. Is she wet? She doesn't like to be wet."

I pat her padded bottom. "Might be. It feels soggy. And warm."

Laughing, Ian stands. "I'll change her. You eat before your food gets cold."

After we're done eating, I ask him about something that's been on my mind all day. "Are you sure you didn't mind me working today? I know we said we wouldn't. I don't want you to think I've changed my mind. It was an emergency."

"Of course I don't mind. You wouldn't be you if you didn't do everything you could to find Kimi's roommate."

But I can't shake this guilty feeling. "I just don't want you to think this time off for us as a family isn't important to me, because it is. I want to do my share, not leave you here handling everything alone."

"Oh, my God, stop it! I love you so much." Ian lays Lizzie on the bed next to her brother and then he pulls me to my feet. "Stop being so amazing and kiss me."

It's a bit surreal standing on the roof of the building with the night sky overhead. We can see the stars through the greenhouse roof. The lake is off to the east, moonlight rippling on the glassy surface of the water.

"Dance with me," Ian says as he grabs his phone and pulls up our wedding playlist. He connects his phone to the speaker system we have up here, and soon the plaintive notes of Make You Feel My Love by Adele start playing. Ian wraps his arms around my neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too." I tighten my hold around his waist and pull him against me. We move slowly to the music, letting the poignant words surround us. I cup the back of his head, and he groans when I claim his mouth.

When the song ends, we take the babies downstairs to give them their bedtime bottles. Then we tuck them in their bassinettes.

I reach for Ian's hand. "Come back up to the roof with me. I want you under the stars."

When I first met Ian, and he showed me the greenhouse on the roof, I realized immediately that this was his happy place. He suffers from claustrophobia as a result of the abuse he suffered as a young child. Up on the roof, in the greenhouse with its glass walls and high ceiling, he revels in the openness.

As a surprise for him, I arranged to have a king-size bed brought up here so he could sleep up here beneath the stars. It's always been one of our favorite places to sleep and to have sex. With all the foliage in the greenhouse, it's private enough. None of our neighbors in adjacent buildings can see inside.

"I really need a shower first," he says, giving me a pouting smile.

Ian slips into our bathroom and, a moment later, I hear the shower running. The temptation to join him is too good to pass up, so I strip naked and walk into the bathroom. He's already in the process of washing his hair.

"Mind if I join you?" I ask.

Ian grins. "Please."

I step into the walk-in shower, come up behind him, and slide my fingers into his sudsy hair. He drops his arms, relaxing his shoulders, and I massage the shampoo into his hair.

"Oh, God, that feels so good," he says with a groan.

After I rinse his hair, I squirt some of his favorite body wash into my hands. Then I start at his neck, massaging it and then his shoulders, smiling when he practically melts beneath my touch. I slide my hands down his arms, and then run my hands up his chest.

He leans back against me and shivers when I focus my attention on his nipples.

Finally, the best part of all—I slip my hands down his torso and wrap the fingers of one hand around him. He's already half-hard, and it doesn't take long before I have a full-fledged erection in my grasp.

As I stroke him slowly from root to tip, he leans his head back against my shoulder. His breaths come fast and hard, his chest heaving. Before long, he's close to coming, so I back off.

Ian groans in frustration.

I smile. "I want you coming in my mouth, not in the shower."

His knees practically give out, and I support him with one arm wrapped around his waist while I shut off the water. I grab a thick, clean towel and quickly dry him, then myself, and then I take his hand and lead him out of our bedroom and up the stairs to the greenhouse.

He follows me without a single word of complaint, stopping only to turn on the baby monitor. I steer him backward until the back of his legs meet the mattress. As I push him down onto the bed, I smile when I see the heat and anticipation in his eyes.